The Candle Bell: When I dream so sad and dying it is because I mourn something that is gone forever…. My beloved city was sung by a man so in love with her that I became jealous of him… but when he left the earth his spirit passed by here, he left me his heart in my iron soul … I am the poet’s heart and my sounds are his heartbeat. That is why, when I sound so desolate and melancholic in the nights of Granada, it is because I cry the voice of the one who desired my beloved… Above the Alhambra there was a great golden sway. The trees of the forest stood still and the orange trees dropped their silken fruits…. The lights in the alleys of the Albayzín went out and the Darro river, making an arpeggio, began to sing in a minor key…. The electric vibration was accentuated and a fragrant, passionate and tragic voice spoke….
The Voice: I float here over this nightmarish palace… because I am part of it; I cannot leave this city because I am it (…).
El Darro: Who spoke? My golden entrails have trembled this night of mysteries. What voice has disturbed my toccatas? Who are you that you speak so passionately?
The Voice of Ganivet: (with the sound of a wilted rose): You lie, you lie; the one in love with Granada was me and my restless and tormented spirit is hidden to see her better in the wounds of the valley.